Undercover
by RandomEquine
Summary: Serial killer in the police force? Brennan and Booth go undercover to find their culprit but what happens when that leads them back to the Jeffersonian as potential suspects themselves? And what do the team think of Mr and Mrs Miller, aka Booth and Bones?
1. Handcuffs and Hand Luggage

A/N: Hello there people. Wow it's been a while. So now to my first foray into the world of Bones fanfiction. This is something I always wanted to see, what would happen if our favourite crime-fighting duo were to go undercover where the team could see them together. So I thought, why not? And here I am back in the world of fanfiction. It's not from any particular time in the series at all so I guess it could go anywhere. So I guess you know the deal, reviews make the world go round. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Bones...

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"Angela, you need to remember. We are undercover. Please, you mustn't blow up our cover." Dr Brennan held the phone to her ear with her shoulder whilst she folded a shirt to put in the suitcase that lay open in front of her.

"I mustn't blow your cover." Angela corrected. "Don't worry sweetie, I got it and I've made sure everyone else has as well."

"Really? Because Booth says—" Brennan started again but was quickly interrupted.

"Look Bones, give me the phone." Booth took the phone from her before she could argue. "Ange? Listen... yeah, just go along with it. Yeah? No of course we're convincing! Goodbye Angela." Booth thrust the phone back at Brennan with a frown on his face. "Why does she not believe me?"

"Because you're not a trained actor, that's why. Angela? Uh, she's hung up. Thanks Booth." She put the phone to one side and picked up another item of clothing to fold.

"No problem." Booth chucked another bundle of clothes into his own suitcase. "Right, you know who we are, don't you?" He pointed a pair of stripy socks at her. "Ryan and Katherine Miller. You're a teacher, I'm a—"

"Wait, why am I always a teacher?" Brennan dropped the last of her luggage into the suitcase and shut the top, pulling the zip neatly closed.

"You're not always a teacher. I think you'd make a good teacher anyway. As I was saying, I am an extremely volatile unemployed man and what I say," He shoved the rest of his belongings forcefully into his suitcase, "Goes."

"Fine." Bones agreed reluctantly, rolling her eyes as Booth closed his suitcase and attempted to zip it closed. "You know, there is a reason why you're meant to fold clothes before you pack them." She leant on the case as Booth forced it closed.

"Yeah well, sometimes even the best reasoning is wrong." The zip caught on the final edge of the suitcase.

"Yeah and sometimes it's completely justified." She looked pointedly at Booth.

"Nonsense Bones, it just needs a bit of..." He rammed the zip home. "Force – see, told ya." Brennan didn't look convinced but kept her mouth shut. Let Booth think he'd won. Sometimes it was just easier that way. There was a sharp rapping at the door. "Hey I guess that's our ride. Got that Katy?"

"I prefer Katherine." Brennan stated. Booth helped her on with her coat and quickly slipped a wedding band onto her finger as well as his own before opening the door.

"Mr and Mrs Miller?" A burly man looked at them over his sunglasses, despite the dark in the hall. His eyes were a fierce green, but his black hair was going grey at the temples. Brennan would estimate him to be about mid-forties. Frown lines creased his face and from their prominence, even Booth could tell he didn't smile often.

"That's us. Mr and Mrs Miller." Brennan repeated, grabbing her luggage from the bed and dragging it towards the door. She grabbed Booth's hand in passing and leaned into him as if to reiterate their marriage. "Are we going or not?"

"One thing first." The man stepped forward and rattled a pair of handcuffs.

"You can't be serious?!" Booth dropped Brennan's hand in protest. "We're coming quietly! Look!" He held up empty hands, wedding ring looking curiously at home on his left hand. The man ignored this outburst and snapped the cuff on Booth's left wrist and Brennan's right.

"Just in case." The man winked over his sunglasses at Brennan, who had, on Booth's orders, changed into a dress and heels. She scowled back, unimpressed by being cuffed. Booth moved across the room and grabbed his suitcase off the bed, pulling Brennan along with him. She was even more unimpressed. She pulled sharply in return, causing Booth to frown and yank back.

"Ouch, _sweetheart_, easy on the wrists." He over-emphasised the term of endearment, 'sweetheart' as if saying it with force would make her behave. However, Booth knew Brennan and though she seemed to behave now, he knew it wasn't going to last. The man who had cuffed them raised an eyebrow behind his dark glasses before motioning for them to leave the room before him. He was almost positive that they weren't going to run. Why would they? There was no reason to. They were only being brought in for questioning. The cuffs were more a way for him to keep an eye on them both together than anything else. The man also liked to think that it gave him the air of one who was in control, yet one look at 'Ryan Miller's' impressive physique told him that, if he had wanted to, he could pretty easily floor the slightly overweight body of the man in the sunglasses.

The man led the couple out to his car. It was an SUV similar to Booth's although, in Booth's own opinion, not half as nice. Brennan and Booth had, effectively been arrested, in an investigation into the murders of 25 year old Jennifer Baker and 14 year old Jessica Harris. They were looking at a serial killer, possibly in the police force. This had led Brennan and Booth to one of their famously successful undercover missions. Booth's job was to become known as the troublesome but otherwise harmless man, Ryan Miller. Brennan's job was to infiltrate the ranks as his well-meaning wife, thus allowing them to hang out down at the local police station.

They had managed to become well known about the station. Some of the men had tried to hit on Brennan when she'd first arrived, but once Booth had drunkenly threatened all of them they seemed to have understood. Dr Brennan was impressed at how good Booth was at pretending to be drunk. He claimed it was a result of being witness to too many of the FBI Christmas parties, Brennan wasn't entirely convinced but then she wasn't sure if he was joking or not. She didn't ask.

Everything had been going fine until the third murder. Cecelia Charles: murdered on her 19th birthday. Unfortunately, 'Ryan Miller' had been in contact with Cecelia the day she was murdered. She had been a possible witness to the murders. Booth had been hoping to get some further knowledge out of her but she was killed before they could get any further. Her body had been sent to the Jeffersonian for identification, although that had already been established, and cause of death. But Ryan Miller was now a suspect and as such was being taken to the FBI for questioning along with his wife who was a possible witness. It had taken several difficult telephone calls but now the relevant people knew who they were, who they weren't and when they would arrive.

Angela had been very excited when she'd found out and was dying to see them together as man and wife. They'd organised for Officer Nathan Michaels, the man in the sunglasses, to 'arrest' them and take them for their interrogation. There, he and the second officer, who was probably waiting in the SUV, would meet up with Dr Sweets where the officers would conduct the interrogation themselves. Angela was planning to appear at some point. Brennan wasn't sure how but she had no doubt that it would happen. When Angela decided something, even Dr Brennan thought twice about persuading her otherwise.

"Come on now." Officer Michaels opened the door of the SUV, allowing 'Ryan and Katherine' to slide in. He then got in the car himself, put the key in the ignition and started to drive. Now they were heading straight for the Jeffersonian, straight home, straight into the heart of the fire.

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A/N: So, what did you think? Want more?


	2. Interrogation

A/N: Wow, I forgot how much I love reviews. Almost as much as I loved last night's episode! Being English, we have been denied our weekly helping of 'Bones' until last week. But all is well once more and 'The Proof in the Pudding' was a brilliant episode. I have however been watching all the promotional videos on Youtube. I'm so excited about the 100th episode. Sorry, back to the story. Thank you for my lovely reviews!!! I got... a little bit carried away with this chapter.

Disclaimer: 'Bones' is not mine, unfortunately.

So without further ado... Chapter Two!!!

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Chapter Two - Interrogation

"Officer Michaels?" Angela dashed forwards, hand extended. "Hi, my name's Angela Montenegro, I'm working on this case, I was asked to greet you and escort you to the interrogation rooms." She looked over his shoulder. "Are these the suspects?" She nodded at Booth and Brennan, who were still hand cuffed but had, on instruction, left their bags in the SUV. Brennan had no doubt that they would be searched as soon as Booth and she were out the way.

"Yeah this is them." He looked over his sunglasses again. "Ryan and Katherine Miller." He took Brennan by the arm and pulled her forward.

"Oi! I don't care if you are the president; keep your hands off my wife." Booth growled threateningly. Officer Michaels grinned smugly at Angela but dropped Brennan's arm like she was on fire. Angela raised her eyebrows at Booth who merely shrugged it off and put his arm round his wife's shoulder. Their hands were still cuffed together so Dr Brennan's hand followed unconsciously, and Booth linked his fingers with Brennan's. The wedding band on Booth's ring finger caught the light streaming from one of the windows by the door.

She turned on her heels to hide the smile that had spread across her face. "This way please." She called over her shoulder. The walk to the interrogation room was long and uncomfortable. Booth was positive that everyone had turned up to witness them together; he'd even seen Hodgins lurking by the door to Booth's own office. His office wasn't even anywhere near the interrogation rooms, he felt like he was part of a parade. Booth tightened his hold on Brennan defiantly. The parade came to a halt outside Dr Sweets' office where Angela knocked at the door.

"Dr Sweets?" She called. "The suspects are here." The door opened to reveal a very smart looking Dr Sweets. Booth couldn't help but snort.

"That's our interrogator? He looks about 12!" He leant his head closer to Brennan's. "My wife works with punks older than you." He shot at Sweets, whose face fell into a frown. Brennan looked up into her husband's face and admonished him in her role of the well-meaning but unhelpful wife.

"Ryan, that's not nice. He looks at least 15 and you know I only work with 12-13 year olds." Booth laughed, shaking his head. Even undercover, she was still undeniably his Bones.

Dr Sweets saw this exchange and forgot to be put out by their remarks. This would be, he felt, a very revealing exercise. He shut his office door behind him and led them down to the interrogation room where he let Brennan and Booth into the room before moving to the observation room next door. Officer Michaels excused himself to go and retrieve his colleague, probably hoping that he had found something in the couple's luggage with which to confront them. As soon as Dr Sweets was sure that the man was out the way, he moved quickly back into the interrogation room.

He held out two tiny earpieces. They were smaller than those normally used and had only recently been linked to the system ready to replace the old ones. Booth and Brennan put them in their ears as Dr Sweets dashed back to the observation room. He flicked the switch on the microphone. "Can you hear me?" He asked earnestly.

"Yeah Sweets, we can hear you." Booth rubbed his wrist, glad that the handcuffs had been removed when they'd been let into the room. Dr Brennan looked equally pleased but sat quietly at her husband's side, contemplating how to best answer the expected onslaught of questions. She was going to aim for innocence with a touch of defiance. Possibly with a fake tear or two, if she could manage it.

"Dr Brennan." Sweets' voice broke through her reverie. "Dr Brennan, Booth is quite right, you should probably try and say as little as possible—"

"What?" She interrupted. "I think I could be quite convincing, I've been doing my research."

"No,_ Katherine_, I think it's best that I do the talking. I'm the suspect after all." Booth addressed her by her cover name, hoping to remind her that they weren't Dr Brennan and Agent Booth at the moment. Brennan frowned.

"But I'm a witness—"

"No." Booth covered her hand that lay on the table, with his own. She looked at it and continued to frown but was silent again. Sweets watched this with interest. "I'll be doing the talking." He finished as she opened her mouth to argue further. "No buts." Brennan turned her hand over so that it rested palm up and linked her fingers with Booth again. She felt the wedding ring on his hand, warm from the heat of his skin. She looked at the ring on her own hand, a bold gold against her pale skin. It looked out of place and yet, somehow when she placed her ringed hand beside Booth and her interlocking fingers, it seemed somewhat different. She didn't think she'd ever want one of her own but whilst it was there she found she didn't dislike it. Not as much as she'd anticipated.

Brennan looked away from their rings and into Booth's eyes. They were the same warm brown that she was used to and they pleaded her to listen. She nodded reluctantly, knowing he was impossible to go against when his mind was made and like the expression on his brow, his mind was set.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet but loaded with meaning. He knew what she was like and it made keeping her safe very difficult.

There was a sound of a door opening and Officer Michaels and his partner entered, taking a seat on the other side of the room's only desk.

"So, Mr and Mrs Miller, where were both of you on the night of the 15th of March? The night of Cecilia Charles' murder." Cutting straight to the chase, Officer Michaels leant forward on his elbows.

"We didn't kill her." Booth answered defensively. Brennan couldn't help wondering if he was secretly enjoying this. She wouldn't have put it past him. He had leant back nonchalantly back in his chair, and crossed his arms defiantly against his chest. "So now that that's over with, why should we tell you where we were? Cos we sure as hell weren't killin' Cecilia." He mixed just the right amount of defiance and lack of concentration. He mispronounced Cecilia in just such a way that even Brennan was convinced that he didn't care. She was impressed. More so than she'd care to admit. He may not be a genius but he didn't need to be. Booth seemed to be able to do anything that he put his mind to regardless of how intelligent he was. Not that he wasn't intelligent, she thought to herself. She looked up to find three sets of eyes fixed on her face.

"What? I didn't kill her." She saw Booth grin and shake his head out of the corner of her eye. Neither of the police officers looked amused and the Officer Michaels leant back and his head lolled back and to the side so that he was looking down his nose at Dr Brennan. The second officer put his crossed arms on the desk and spoke slowly and clearly.

"That's not what I asked, Mrs Miller but thank you for sharing." He slid a photo that had lain unacknowledged on the table so that Dr Brennan could see it more clearly. It was a photo of Cecilia Charles. There was a glass of wine clasped in her left hand and a paper crown from a Christmas cracker sat on her head at a jaunty angle. She looked happy. Brennan looked over at Booth and he must have seen something in her expression, because he reached over and slid his hand into hers. Pulling his hand into her lap she looked back at the officers. "Do you recognise this girl?" Brennan must have tightened her grasp on Booth's fingers because he began to rub his thumb gently over the back of her hand, calming her but at the same time trying to loosen her death grip on his fingers.

"Yes." She answered simply, remembering the happy-go-lucky girl they had interviewed a couple of days before. Unusually for Dr Brennan they had gotten on almost immediately. She had been a bright girl; impulsive and a little headstrong but friendly and willing to shake off Brennan's comments.

"Who is this, Mrs Miller?" He pointed at Cecilia, his scrawny finger stabbing at her picture.

"Cecilia Charles." Brennan replied quietly, fighting the urge to slap the officer's hand from the picture. Brennan was used to murders and corpses but it still hurt when she knew the person before they'd been killed.

"And did you, Katherine Miller, meet with Miss Charles the day she died?" Dr Brennan looked down at Booth's hand in her lap, hoping that the imitation of weakness might give her more time to think.

Meanwhile Dr Sweets was watching, enraptured from the other side of the mirrored glass. He hadn't missed the miniscule shows of comfort that Booth was giving his partner, the way he held her hand and sat forward in his chair so that he was closer to their interrogators than she was, as if he would throw himself between them if they did anything to upset her. But what interested Sweets the most was Dr Brennan. Despite her rational character, Dr Brennan appeared to have a much firmer grasp of human responses than Sweets had previously thought. Not only had she diffused the tension that had been directed straight at her awaiting answer but she was now responding to the direct questioning with just enough emotion to convey the views of an innocent young woman. Sweets was impressed and made a note to add the information to his files.

"That'll be all for now, you will continue to be remanded in custody until such a time when we know for sure whether or not you are..." Officer Michaels paused, supposedly for effect before leaning in to Dr Brennan, "guilty." Booth moved between the officer and his 'wife'.

"Back off, pal." He glared and Sweets sat up straight in his seat. There had been little acting involved in Booth's last words. In fact Sweets could almost see the venom dripping from his words.

"Wow." He said to no-one in particular. Booth's muscles were tensed and Sweets could see where his knuckles were turning white from his grip on the table. Now things were getting interesting. Booth had lost the innocent, almost slightly drunk way of speaking he'd been using since they arrived. His words were shot through with an icy clarity that chilled Sweets to the bone. Officer Michaels had moved back and there was fear in his eyes though he tried not to show it.

He got to his feet in silence and left the room, his partner followed, shutting the door behind him but not before taking a second look over his shoulder. The door clicked into place and there was silence in the interrogation room. Booth slumped back into his chair and stretched before interlocking his fingers and put his hands behind his head.

"Well that was eventful." He stated, almost oblivious to the scene he'd just caused. Almost, noted Dr Sweets. His muscles were still tensed and his eyes hadn't left the door. Dr Brennan was silent. She looked up at the two way mirror and gave Sweets a look that said, 'Did you just see that?' She put her hand on Booth's knee and he turned to look at her. Booth noticed her expression and one corner of his mouth went up. "Hey, no one touches my girl."

"That was awesome." Sweets' voice said through the earpieces that Brennan and Booth were still wearing.

"I agree." Dr Brennan looked impressed. "It was pretty..." She tried to search for a more appropriate word but couldn't find one. "Remarkable." She folded her arms across her chest. "Although he probably thinks you're guilty now."

"They're police officers Bones! Of course they think I'm guilty."

"That's not true; the police are bound by laws to consider someone innocent until they've been proven guilty—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's great Bones." Booth shook his head. "Can we leave now, Sweets?" He looked towards the two way mirror. "Please?"

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A/N: So what did you all think? Review?


	3. Restlessness

A/N: Hi everyone. Sorry it took so long but guess whose on their easter holidays now? Yup, me. So more time for writing methinks. Everybody seems a little restless in this chapter. I wonder why? Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. (However, if they ever come back to England..... *runs off to plan*)

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Chapter Three - Restlessness

Dr Brennan flopped down onto the room's double bed with a sigh. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it for a couple of seconds then let it out. Her feet ached from a day in heels and she was tired from pretending to be someone that she wasn't but Booth, who never seemed to tire, stood at the foot of the bed and flipped the poker chip that he always kept in his pocket.

Flip, catch, flip, catch, flip, catch...

"Booth?" Dr Brennan rubbed the temples at the sides of her head.

"Yeah?" He continued to flip the chip.

"Stop it." There was silence for a while as Booth slipped the chip back into his pocket. He stood hands in pockets for a total of six seconds before he sighed, crossed his arms and started to pace.

"BOOTH!" Brennan sat up, "Why are you so restless?"

"What?" he looked up; distracted. "Oh, sorry." He sat down on a chair by the room's window just next to the bed.

"No, don't give me that. Even I can see something's up. What is it?" Dr Brennan got off the bed and moved to sit on the small ledge that acted as a window seat.

"Nothing. It's not important." He looked at his watch. "It's getting late, do you want to go and get something to eat?" He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it but noticed his change of subject.

"But Booth—?"

"Just leave it Bones." He pulled on his jacket and fumbled in the pocket for his keys. When he looked up, his frustration was gone. "Are you coming or shall I leave you here?" He waited while she slipped her feet back into her heels and hobbled over to him. One of his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth shot up. "How are you doing there, hop-along? Wouldn't you rather some more comfortable shoes? I'll be carrying you home before the night is over."

Dr Brennan frowned. Kicking off the heels, she dug around for more appropriate shoes. "It was you who told me to wear heels in the first place."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway; they probably just damage your tibula or something." Booth waved his arms in a dismissive gesture.

Dr Brennan looked at him incredulously. "Do you mean the tibia? Or the fibula? Because I can assure you that neither is correct. Walking in heels wouldn't damage either the tibia or the fibula. However, walking in heels could cause the wearer to become predisposed to—"

Booth looked like he wanted to bash his head on the door frame. "You know Bones, I don't really care. I was hoping it would get you out the door. I guess I was wrong." He looked up and gave her that typical Booth grin. "Dinner?" He held out his arm. "My love?"

After a brief pause, she took his proffered arm. "Why thank you Mr Miller. I believe I shall."

Sitting opposite one another in a semi-crowded diner, they contemplated their new positions. Officer Michaels had said they were to be kept in custody but as he had no proof of anything, he'd had to let the couple go. Instead they were to stay close in case they were needed again. So, that is how Dr Brennan and her partner came to be staying in a hotel just three blocks from Brennan's own apartment. They sipped genteelly and absent-mindedly at the wine Brennan had ordered for them both. The strain of remaining in character in what would normally be a relaxing situation was getting to Booth. In case anyone was to walk in that recognised them from the case, the partners were sitting with their feet entangled at the base of the table and their fingers interlocking on the top.

To the people around them, they would seem to be a couple in love but for the tension that wracked their bodies. Brennan kept throwing shifty glances at the doors, sometimes the windows too, as if waiting for someone to come bursting in. Booth on the other hand was waiting for Brennan to move away from him. She would. She always did. As if hearing his thoughts, Brennan pulled her fingers free of his and wrapped them carefully around the stem of her wine glass. She stared deeply into the deep red liquid.

"Bones—" She looked up at him before glancing cautiously around. Satisfied that no one had noticed his slip, her eyes met his once more. "Sorry, Katherine," She lowered her eyes back to her glass. "What's wrong?"

Dr Brennan's gaze returned to his face. "Well," she spoke to her glass, "I know that I don't possess the same level of social skills that you have but I like to think that I have learnt a certain amount in our time together and in our partnership, I like to think that I've become adept at recognising certain aspects of your behaviour." She pushed the glass away and played with the wedding ring on her finger. "And even if I am mistaken, I know when you're not happy about something and there is definitely something bothering you. It bothers me that you're bothered because if something is serious enough—" She faded off in a very un-Brennan-like way.

"Are you saying," Booth tipped his head to one side and grinned. "That you trust my gut?"

"No, I—" She looked up and caught his grin. "But, you were joking weren't you?" She asked already knowing the answer. She smiled back and Booth began to relax.

"You know, sometimes I really love you." He said spontaneously but as soon as the words had left his mouth he froze. Dr Brennan sat painfully still, a faintly shocked, almost surprised look on her face. Worried that he'd scared her, Booth immediately tried to backpedal, like he'd done before. "You know in an—"

"Atta girl kinda way." Brennan interrupted. "Yeah, I remember." There was awkward silence where neither looked at the other, but if they had; they might have caught the brief but sad glances both partners had thrown into their glasses. Booth was the first to look up.

"We should be getting back to the hotel." He said, downing the rest of his drink and clambering to his feet. Dr Brennan; business-like as ever, slid to her feet and pulled her purse out of her bag. "No I'll pay." He placed a hand on hers to stop her from paying but dropped it as if he'd been burnt. Brennan didn't argue back for once, still lost in thought.

The couple made their way back to the hotel room in silence, both now painfully aware of the room's single double bed.

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A/N: Dun dun duh!!!! What's gonna happen now? Review?


	4. Sweet Dreams?

A/N: Hullo. It is me! So... What happens next? Enjoy.

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Chapter Four – Sweet Dreams?

Brennan and Booth stood staring at the room's double bed trying to work out what to do next. Both were adamant that the other should take the bed and each had their own reasons for not taking the bed.

Booth was the first to speak. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch." He slung his jacket onto the couch and Brennan immediately objected.

"No. It'll be bad for your back. I'll sleep on the couch, you can have the bed." She moved his jacket and put her own coat on the couch instead.

"But it is bad manners to force a woman to sleep on the couch." He moved her coat, as she had his jacket and took off his shirt, before putting it in place of the coat. Brennan was momentarily flustered as she looked at her partner standing before her in just a vest and his trousers.

"Oh is that the way it's going to be?" She crossed her arms.

"Yeah, this is the way it's going to be. You gonna back down now?" Booth asked, although it was probably the wrong thing to say.

"No. I'm not. Besides, you're not 'forcing' me. It was my idea." She pulled his shirt off the couch and slid her own jacket off. She stood before Booth in her figure hugging dress and dropped her jacket onto the object of their arguments.

Booth swallowed heavily. He could see where this was going and he wasn't sure he was particularly comfortable with it. He knew Brennan's unscrupulous approach to argument solving. I.e. If she was right then nothing would stop her proving so. Knowing this, Booth was unsure just how far into this argument, she was willing to get. He was contemplating giving in. That was until he thought of a better idea.

"Alright." He said, picking up his clothes and hanging them over the chair by the bed. "The couch is yours. Goodnight." The argument ended so abruptly that Brennan was unsure what to make of it. She was sure that he'd be his typical alpha male self and refuse to let her take the couch. In fact, she was distinctly unsure whether she should trust him or not. As they each got changed into their pyjamas, Brennan kept casting Booth questioning glances that he appeared not to see. Booth was fully aware of her and had to hide his smirk many a time. Soon enough, Brennan was tucked up on the couch and Booth, keeping his word was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.

"Booth?" Dr Brennan's voice called from the couch which, although situated in the same room as the bed, faced away from it.

"Yeah?"Booth leant up on his elbows.

"Goodnight." She decided against bringing the argument up again, lest they ended up fighting again. She wasn't sure why Booth had given up, but she was glad that he's finally forgone his alpha male tendencies and taken the bed. It would be a lot better for his back and she'd gladly sleep on the couch to save him the pain she knew it caused him.

"Goodnight Dr Brennan." Booth replied with a grin and settled down to wait. As it turned out, he needn't wait for too long. Soon he heard her breathing level out and he carefully peeled back the covers and slid out of bed. Tiptoeing to the couch he looked down at the sleeping doctor. She looked peaceful. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he slid his arms beneath her and carried her gently over to the bed. He paused as she murmured in her sleep and chuckled as he found himself being accosted for 'misplacing the manubrium'. He lowered her onto the bed and tensed as he felt her hands tighten their grip on his T-shirt.

"No." She mumbled quietly and Booth sat silently on the edge of the bed until her grip loosened and he could pry his shirt out of her fingers. Tucking the covers round her, he walked back over to the couch and, finally happy now that she was comfortably asleep in the bed, he lay down and fell asleep himself.

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A/N: Well, I think it's fair to say, I'm not sure Brennan will think much of this arrangement. I don't think I've ever used the word 'couch' quite so much. It took all I had to stop me from writing 'sofa'. Guess I'm just that bit too English. :)


	5. Sleeping in All The Wrong Places

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated recently. I came on fanfiction last friday and was bombarded with stories about the 100th episode which, being English, I had not seen yet so... I won't say that I was sulking but... that's probably the closest explaination. But all is well, I saw it on Thursday and I must say I am thrilled at this new progression. Brennan has come along in leaps and bounds if she now recognises why she pushes him away. I can't wait for next week's episode. Anyway, so I thought you might want me to continue my story... that and I feel that I have review withdrawal symptoms appearing. So please enjoy and review!!!

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Chapter Five - Sleeping in All The Wrong Places

Brennan awoke with sunlight playing gently behind her eyelids. She stretched her arms above her head, delighting in the warmth that was coming from the window with the curtains that they had forgotten to close. At the thought of Booth, Brennan opened her eyes and then sat up to find herself tucked up in the bed. She frowned, suddenly furious. Sliding quickly out of bed, she reached for her dressing gown that she had hung on the back of the door late last night. Putting it on, she padded over to the sofa. Lying half on and half off the couch, Booth was fast asleep. His head rested in his right arm whilst his left trailed to the floor. He had such an innocent look on his face that, if she hadn't been so mad at him, Brennan might have stood and watched him for longer. At some point between moving her and falling asleep, he had removed his shirt, probably due to the warmth of the blankets on the couch. The blankets that now lay in a tangled mess on the floor.

"Booth?" Dr Brennan shook his shoulder but he batted her hand away with a moan. "Booth!"

"What?" He moaned. "I'm awake." His eyes were still closed and he was most definitely not awake.

"Booth wake up!" Brennan shook her partner awake. Booth jerked into consciousness and sprung to his feet, tensing, ready to fight.

"What? What is it?" His eyes were wide open as he took in Dr Brennan standing before him in her dressing gown and he relaxed. He blinked sleepily at her and moaned. "Why'd you wake me Bones?" Brennan slapped him on the arm, hard. "Ow! What was that for?"

"I told you, sleeping on the couch is bad for your back!"

"And, I told you that you should take the bed. But you didn't listen, so I had to take matters into my own hands." Booth flexed his muscles and turned away from his partner, giving her a perfect view of the acromion she had so admired. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him back to face her. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? Don't you just 'what?' me!" She cried. "I said, quite clearly—"

"Yeah and I ignored you. It's nothing new. Now pumpkin, go and get ready." He turned her to face her suitcase and gave her a gentle nudge towards it. She turned back and glared at him but he just grinned and gave her a little wave. She fumed all the way through her shower and pulled her clothes on roughly, still angry with her partner who sat angelically on the couch eating a bowl of cereal.

"It seems we have a free day today, we don't have to be interrogated or anything just yet." Booth spoke, sensing her presence in the room. He looked up. "You can't still be angry at me." Brennan was stood in the doorway arms folded sternly. "Well I guess you are. I don't regret what I did Bones and I would do it again in an instant."

"Yeah well I'm not going to let it happen again." He stood up and put his cereal bowl on the nearest counter before turning back to Brennan.

"So where do you want to go?" He waved a selection of leaflets that he'd picked up in the lobby. "OH the zoo! I remember when I took Parker a couple of years ago—"

"I want to go to the Jeffersonian." Brennan cut in, slipping her feet into her shoes.

"No, no, no, no, no. Brennan, don't you understand why we can't go to work today?" Booth stepped forward and put a hand on her arm.

"What do you mean? Of course I can go to work. In fact," She picked up her coat and bag. "I'm going now."

"Whoah! I don't think so, beautiful." He wrapped an arm round her waist and dragged her back towards the couch.

"Hey, enough with the endearments! I can go to work if I want to. My work is what I enjoy. What am I to do if I cannot work?" Booth's face fell at that.

"What do you mean? There's lots we could do. I mean look," he waved the leaflets. "We could do anything." Brennan looked poised to interrupt. "Anything but work." Booth finished, blocking Brennan's unspoken argument.

"Anything?" Brennan looked up, an unreadable look in her eye that made Booth swallow cautiously. Maybe this hadn't been his best idea. Who knows what Bones had in mind. "I want to go to the park."

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There you go. I don't thing that's what Booth was expecting... but then... what was he expecting? One of my reviews, (you know who you are!) told me not to be 'shy about undress Booth more often', an idea my best friend picked up and became very enthusiastic about. So there you are Candlegiglia, one rather less than dressed Agent Booth. Anyway thank you! Review!!!


	6. Something Different

A/N: I know, I know I haven't updated in ages and I hope you can forgive me. Nothing annoys me more than really liking a story and then finding that the author doesn't update regularly so I can guess how you guys are feeling. University does kind of take over your life though. In a good way but still... I hope you enjoy this addition. I'll try and update soon. I have ideas though so... that's a start. How you guys aren't mad at me, enjoy the update! ~ RandomEquine

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Chapter Six - Something Different

"The park?" Booth couldn't disguise his surprise. "Why?"

"Why ever not?" Brennan looked pleased with her decision. In fact, now that she had made the decision, she was practically glowing with excitement. She swapped her shoes for some that would be more appropriate for their day. Booth meanwhile was still suspicious. Whatever could the great Dr Temperance Brennan want at the park?

"Come on, Booth." She beckoned from the door whilst he stood in the middle of the room, the same perplexed look on his face. He looked up again.

"The park?" Booth could not work out for the life of him why she would want to go there of all places. It just seemed... so unlike her. But then, he thought again, you never can tell with her.

"Yes. Let's go." She was champing at the bit.

"What? Now?" Booth looked down at his bare chest and loose-fitting pyjama bottoms. He glanced up to see the not particularly amused face of Dr Temperance Brennan frowning back.

"I was hoping to leave fairly promptly. Preferably soon." She looked at his attire. "You'll be wanting to put on more clothes I presume." She folded her arms.

"You presume?" Booth asked incredulously. There was a modest pause.

"Should I take that as a yes?"

"Yes you should take that as a yes! Sheesh Bones!" He picked up a pile of clothing and stalked to the bathroom shutting the door with force. When he returned, fully dressed as Ryan Miller, Brennan was sitting on the sofa studying a point on the floor about two feet in front of her. She didn't look up when he entered but he could tell that she'd seen him arrive. He walked across the room and sat next to her in silence. They were there for what seemed like ages before Brennan spoke, still not looking up.

"Do you think that if I were someone else, someone else's daughter, people would prefer to be around me?" Booth looked up in surprise and put his arm around her shoulders before replying.

"Hey there Bones, where did this come from?"

"I was just..." she rubbed her forehead. "I used to enjoy going to the park, sitting on the swings, having picnics... but ever since..." She looked up, "My parents left, I've never really... enjoyed it the same. I've never had someone with which I feel I could enjoy it—You look perplexed."

Booth shook his head with a sigh. "No Bones, I understand perfectly. What I don't understand is why you think people don't like being around you. I love being around you. And what has that to do with who your parents are?"

"They are criminals, Booth—"

"But you aren't. Temperance," He put a hand under her chin, bringing her face round to look at him. "Is that what you were worried about? No one thinks any less of you because of your parents and certainly not me." He pulled her into a tight hug. "Come on, you and I are going to the park." He lifted her to her feet and gave her the coat that she had slung over the arm of the sofa.

"But—" She started.

"No buts, Brennan." He took the coat from her idle hands and helped her into it before leading her to the door.

As it turned out, going to the park had been an excellent idea. They sat, side by side on a pretty park bench in an idyllically perfect place. They were, in all intents and purposes a perfect couple in love. Bones couldn't remember the last time she had been so relaxed, her hand loosely clasped in Booth's, purely for appearances obviously. She couldn't help but feel a flush of happiness when he began to rub her hand with his thumb without realising. But this wasn't why it was such a good idea. No, what convinced the pair that they had made the right decision was the appearance of one of their case's key witnesses.

"Booth! Hey, Booth! Wake up!" She nudged him sharply in the sides, breaking his trance.

"Jeez Bones, I'm awake and anyway, _Katherine_, aren't you forgetting something?" he answered but was completely ignored. She was instead focused on a young woman who looked around 22 years old who was chasing a two year old round the play area.

"That's her Boo—Ryan. That's her. Amanda Morris. She was friends with Cecelia. Come on let's go talk to her!" She all but leapt to her feet and the only thing that stopped her running straight over, was Booth's hand on the back of her jacket.

"Woah! Where d'you think you're going? What do you think you're going to say? 'Oh, hello, I'm Katherine Miller and I'm a teacher, would you like to tell me about your best friend who was murdered?' Well? You are a stranger. She will not want to talk to you."

"But I can be very—" Brennan started.

"No." He pulled her back down on to the seat beside him. This needs to be done carefully and needs to be well planned. We can't just go over there, we need a reason to talk to her."

Brennan looked at him and grinned. "I have just the idea." Booth didn't know why he was suddenly so apprehensive but knowing Bones, it was probably completely justified. Who knew what went through her mind?


End file.
